


if it wasn’t for bad luck (i wouldn’t have no luck at all)

by Silver_Queen_DoS



Category: Jack Reacher Series - Lee Child
Genre: Bisexual Character, Book 11: Bad Luck And Trouble, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22609789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Queen_DoS/pseuds/Silver_Queen_DoS
Summary: The first words that Dave O’Donnell hears from Jack Reacher in over ten years are on the crackling tape of his office answering machine. “This is Jack Reacher with a ten-thirty from Frances Neagley at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel in Los Angeles, California. Get off your ass and call her back.”
Relationships: Jack Reacher/Dave O'Donnell
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	if it wasn’t for bad luck (i wouldn’t have no luck at all)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ashling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashling/gifts).



The first words that Dave O’Donnell hears from Jack Reacher in over ten years are on the crackling tape of his office answering machine. “This is Jack Reacher with a ten-thirty from Frances Neagley at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel in Los Angeles, California. Get off your ass and call her back.” 

He listens to it twice, even though it’s four messages deep in a chain of missed calls that say nothing good. Tony Swan first, asking for help with something, vague, non-specific, not rushed. Calvin Franz next, same kind of thing, ‘we could use some extra eyes down here’. Then Sergeant Neagley herself, with the ten-thirty. 

Then Reacher. A voice from a forgotten era, like the ghost of Christmas Past telling you to get your shit together or else. 

Dave had, maybe, once or twice, thought about what it would be like to see Reacher again. Maybe there would have been a distant, professional acknowledgement if Reacher had set himself up as a detective somewhere when he left the army. Maybe they’d have called each other, friend to friend, to swap information or favours for a case. Dave would drive a hard bargain, but he’d always cave, because he can’t seriously imagine denying Reacher anything. 

Or maybe one day he’d just look up and Reacher would be there, standing in the doorway, hulking and looming. Maybe he’d smile. Say ‘nice office’ in the way that could have been mocking or sincere. Maybe they’d just catch up. Reminisce over old times. Maybe, now that they were out of the Army and DADT didn’t rule their lives— 

Dave O’Donnell presses play on the answering machine one last time, listening to Reacher tell him to get off his ass. 

“You could give me a little more to go on,” he tells Reacher through the answering machine. It does about as much good as telling Reacher to his face; Reacher didn’t share shit until he was good and ready. If he thought you were capable of working it out, he’d tell you to do it, even when he already had all the answers. 

Then he gets off his ass and heads to the airport, already planning who to call to give him the heads up he needs. 

* * *

The first thing Dave O’Donnell says to Jack Reacher after nearly ten years is: “I was going to inquire as to the meaning of all those rude and abusive messages on my answering machine. But now I understand.” 

_Hope for the best, plan for the worst._

The worst case scenario was that, by the time Dave got here, they’d all be dead; Neagley and Reacher included. The best case was that they’d all be alive, partying it up, requesting his presence for an impromptu reunion, setting it up to look like a problem because each and every single one of them is an overdramatic shithead. 

This is somewhere in the middle. Maybe a little further down the ‘worst’ end of the scale. Four of the Special Investigators — four of his _friends_ — are dead. Dave wasn’t there, didn’t hear their calls for assistance until it was too late. But he’s here now, and if there were any team in the entire world that could take appropriate retribution, it’s the three of them. 

“It’s good to see you again, David,” Reacher says. He looks good. Or rather, he looks bad in a way that looks good on him — like he’s just come off a long deployment straight into another one. Rough around the edges, like he could use a few days of downtime and twelve hours sleep, but still fired up and ready to go in a heartbeat. Ready to come in swinging, if given half a chance. 

“Likewise,” Dave agrees, because it’s true and he’s flattered Reacher said it first. He thinks it might have sounded too accusatory if he had, sort of like _so where the hell have you been, Reacher?_ “But I wish it were under happier circumstances.” 

“The circumstances just got fifty percent happier,” Reacher says, because he’s a hard-ass through and through. “We thought it was just the two of us. Now it’s the three of us.” 

Dave smiles, thin and unamused. “So, what have we got?” he asks, and then starts thinking about computer passwords and the kind of thing that Calvin Franz idolised above all else. The kind of thing he would have used to safeguard data important enough to die for. 

The answer is too easy. Literally staring him in the face. What all the Special Investigators had idolised, in one way or another. He’s not surprised Reacher didn’t guess, but Neagley should have. 

The password is _Reacher_. Of course it is. 

“Ah, hell,” Reacher says, turning away. Like the password was Franz begging for help, beyond the grave. “Neither of you would use something like that, right?” 

Dave snorts. “Seven letters, no numbers or symbols? Get real. It doesn’t even pass the basic password strength test.” He hesitates a beat. “But in spirit? Maybe.” Intellectually, it’s not sound. But the idea of having some piece of Reacher around, protecting his things… yeah, there’s something in that. 

Neagley smirks. “From now on, all my passwords are going to be the square root of your date of birth,” she says, clearly mocking. “Too weird for anyone to ever guess.” 

Reacher gives a beleaguered sigh and decides to focus on what information was _behind_ the password protection. Which is about where their investigation stalls out for the night because Franz hadn’t left them a lot to go on. 

They eat dinner in the hotel lobby restaurant and eventually give up. Neagley gives an unsubtle yawn and Dave and Reacher politely leave her room. 

“Shit,” Dave says in realisation. “I need to book a hotel room.” 

There’s a half second hesitation, then Reacher shakes his head. “Stay with me,” he offers. “No point wasting the money.” 

Dave doesn’t know what _kind_ of offer, if anything, lies behind that but he’s willing to find out. 


End file.
